"Fucking frustrating witch!" Draco growled as he stormed into his flat, pulling on his tie and unfastening his expensive tailored suit carelessly.
"Don't even need to ask who pissed in your firewhisky." He heard the voice of his friend from the kitchen.
"Fuck off, Nott."
"Should I fuck off or not? Make up your mind, mate." Replied Theodore, purposely taunting him.
Draco just glared at him and went to his bedroom, changing clothes and disapparating.
Four years since the end of the war.
Draco reminisced as he sat on his usual spot at the bar counter of his favourite muggle-owned bar – yes: muggle-owned –, his usual expensive whisky (neat) in a glass in front of him.
Four years acting like the absolutely perfect wizarding citizen to prove to all that I am not my father.
He tossed the amber liquid back and stared at the empty glass for a moment.
The heat of the alcoholic beverage spreading around his body, the relaxation of the alcohol reaching his bloodstream and making him sigh pleasurably and forget about the awfully stressful day he had had at work – mentally, physically and emotionally.
Draco had spent more hours arguing with Her than actually getting any work done – unsurprisingly. For he could barely think in her presence – well, not true, he could think just not work-related thoughts.
He sighed as he raised his empty glass, silently asking the barman for a refill.
Thoughts of Her were followed, as always, by what ifs and could haves that he'd never be able to learn the answers to.
Her.
The Gryffindor Princess, War Heroine, Order of Merlin First Class, who could have got any job she wanted after all she had done for the world but still had insisted in returning to Hogwarts and finishing her N.E.W.T.s
Her.
Who he had met in every class and watched working hard to achieve an absurd number of N.E.W.T.s he was certain She didn't need.
"I want to earn my position, Malfoy!" she had told him one night when he questioned her in the Hogwarts Library.
And her reply had shocked him.
Earn it? – she thought she still had to fight to deserve something after helping Scarhead save the entire world?
Draco gave up trying to understand Her after that.
Two years after finishing Hogwarts, Draco graduated with double degrees in Ancient Runes and Potion Arts at Wizarding Sorbonne, got a job at the Ministry as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, and had already helped solve many post-war problems.
But who had already been working at the Ministry for two years when he arrived?
Her.
Head of the Post-War Amendments Department, no less; responsible for literally reshaping the wizarding world through fairer and inclusive laws.
He wondered if She ever got tired of trying to make the world a better place. He felt exhausted just watching her work every day.
And he found himself watching her.
A lot.
Every day.
She was a force to be reckoned with; relentless in her pursuit of a better society for all, destroying everyone who tried to stop the many reforms she was set to implement.
And he knew very well the way she could stare a man down with a fire in those honey-coloured eyes of hers as she eloquently explained all the reasons her bills needed to be voted and approved for the betterment of the Wizarding Society, her indisputable reasoning turning to ashes even the most confident of the Wizengamot members.
I wanted her to burn me to the ground with her lips and touches. Draco mentally told his tumbler of whisky, his mind bringing forth all the things he wished he could do to Her – pleasure her until she begged him to just take her, fuck her into speechlessness, hold her as they slept covered on the unmistakable marks and fluids that spoke of hours of passionate love-making.
He wanted to make Her his in every way.
His woman.
His wife.
The mother of his children.
Fuck. He groaned internally, lifting his glass to take another sip of whisky.
But he stopped, noticing an interesting woman walk into the pub.
She was short, curvy, with long wavy hair, the colour of the strands but a shade darker than Hers.
Stop it! Draco admonished himself.
He had developed the terrible habit of comparing all women to Her.
And they all came up short, every time.
Obviously.
Their breasts either weren't full enough or were too large.
Their waist and hips weren't as curvy as hers.
Their arses weren't as round and fuckable as hers.
Their skin-colour was either too light or too dark – never the right tone of mocha he dreamed of licking and biting and kissing.
Their perfume wasn't right.
Their voice wasn't both sweet and authoritative like Hers.
Their eyes were never honey-coloured.
Their wit mostly lacking.
Their sense of humour wasn't the same.
Their swotiness-
Fuck!
He ran his hand through his glamoured dark-hair in frustration.
No matter the woman – they'd never be Her.
However, that one who had just entered the bar and sat two stools away from him had caught his eye for some reason.
Right then Draco wished he hadn't chosen to glamour himself that night. His aristocratic features, blond hair and grey eyes never failed to get him what he wanted – or who he wanted (except for Her).
But he always glamoured his features into a rounder face, green eyes and dark wavy hair to venture into muggle spaces, and he couldn't just go to the bathroom and change his face – he'd be risking being prosecuted by the Ministry on grounds of breaking the Statute of Secrecy.
So Draco discreetly watched the newcomer through the large mirror behind the counter; her hair wasn't curly enough (more waves than actual curls), and its shade of brown was different. But her body... she was just as curvy as Her; and the woman's lips were the same shape and Hers – enough to pique his interest.
The woman seemed a little uncomfortable as she ordered her drink. She looked around as if she regretted having gone there; then she finally glanced at him through the mirror.
He saw her frown slightly as she noticed he had been watching her, but soon became distracted by her drink (something red and orange with a long pink straw).
But Draco kept his eyes on her and when she looked up again, he gave her a smile through the mirror and she tilted her head, her brown eyes sparkling in some small hint of interest.
She slowly turned her face to him, "Hi." She said.
"Good evening, Miss." He replied, standing up to let her see him in full – his body being something he never glamoured for he was more than just proud of his fit physique. "Is that occupied?" he asked, pointing at the seat beside hers.
"No." she replied. "I've just arrived. As you well know."
Draco smirked, getting his glass and changing seats.
Cheeky.
He liked when women weren't afraid of talking back (obviously, considering who he had been in love with for the past two years).
He sat beside the brunette and shot her his most charming smile.
"I've never seen you here before."
"You come here often?" she replied with a question.
His smile turned into a grimace, "More than I'd like to admit."
She nodded slowly. "This is my first night alone in a bar. I'm used to going with friends. But never alone, and never to this one."
Draco just nodded, sipping his whisky before asking: "And why are you drinking alone in bar tonight?"
She visibly controlled the urge of rolling her eyes. "Well, why do people go out for drinks alone?" She asked rhetorically. "Heartbreak. What else?" she sucked briefly on the straw, drinking her chosen poison of the night. "I need to... forget someone."
"Ah. Ex-boyfriend?" he smiled, not against the idea of being her rebound fuck.
She laughed quietly. "No. A bit more pathetic than that – an unrequited love."
"Unrequited? I'm surprised." He looked down her body in a clear show that he liked what he saw.
She blushed at his open display of interest but didn't seem upset by his blatancy.
"Thanks. I guess." she said, "But my feelings are completely unreciprocated. He never looks at me twice – unless he finds something to insult me." She sucked on her straw again.
Draco once more openly ogled her, "What is there to insult?"
She blushed at his appraisal but sighed heavily. "I'd rather not talk about him. The whole point of coming here tonight is to forget he exists."
He shook his head in disbelief, "Whoever he is, he must be blind."
"No. Just a prat." She sipped her drink again, "And you? Why are you here?"
"Similar situation." He admitted.
Her eyes glinted with mischief, "A man hasn't been returning your affections?"
He laughed. "No. A woman. A brilliant woman who is too good for me."
She just nodded and they drank a little on silence.
"Not to be rude but-" she spoke. "I'm not looking for sex. At least not tonight."
He smiled at her sincerity. "No problem. It's been a while since I just talked to a beautiful woman at a pub."
She snorted. "So you usually don't just talk?"
"Nope." Draco smirked. "But for you I can wait til another night."
"Hm." She tilted her head to the side, eyeing him curiously. "You do that."
His smirk turned into a sexy smile and he winked at her before finishing his glass, his eyes on her lips around the straw, noticing how she always licked her lips after sucking on it.
"Why are you after a man who doesn't return your affections? As preposterous as that notion seems to me."
She let out a sigh before replying: "It's not like I can simply tell my heart to stop feeling things for him, is it?"
"If only it were that easy." He muttered before another sip of whisky.
"And why are you suffering for a woman who doesn't want you?"
"Simple: to be able to forget her, I'd have to meet a woman more interesting than her. Cleverer. Prettier. Stronger. And such a woman does not exist."
The female stranger raised her brows in surprise. "She sounds remarkable."
"She is." He let out with a sigh, finding it easy to open up to this stranger. "And she is absolutely insufferable."
"Wait." She seemed confused. "Do you love her or not?"
"I love her existence and hate that I can't share mine with hers."
"Wow." She said with a grimace mixed with surprise. "That was the most disgustingly sweet thing I've ever heard." She sucked her straw and continued: "But I get it: you love her but hate that you can't have her." she added in a near whisper: "I understand it perfectly."
He smiled and raised his glass to her, "Look at us," then motioned the mirror with his head. "Two strangers moping in a pub for a love they'll never have."
She smiled, "I'm glad we met."
Draco just nodded and they finished their drinks in comfortable silence, then she bid him goodnight on her way out.